"I'll have the prime rib, please."
"Prime rib?!" Will exclaimed, glaring at me from over the top of his menu. "On my dime?!"
I laughed and handed the waiter my menu. "Let's remember which one of us is the broke college student, shall we?"
Will sputtered for a moment. "I -"
"Oh, shut up, Will," Jenny said, handing the waiter her menu as well. "We invited her to dinner for God's sake."
"That doesn't mean she has to order the most expensive thing on the menu," he said through his teeth.
I smiled right at him. "That is exactly what it means, right Lilly-girl?"
"Right!" she said, leaning into me and hugging my arm from her booster seat. I kissed the top of her head, happy to be here with them, and all too pleased with myself for already having pissed Will off.
He sighed loudly and leaned back, his arm around his wife's chair. "Well, it doesn't mean I have to like it."
He was pouting. And I was enjoying it way too much.
"Never said you had to." I watched Lilly color for a few moments before voicing the question that had been on my mind since I'd received Will's invite via text. "So, what's up?"
Both Will and Jenny looked taken aback. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking way too excited for me to believe that they'd only invited me to dinner out of the kindness of their hearts.
I leaned back, prepared to lay it out for them. "Our dinners together are usually relegated to Mom and Dad's dining room, so I'm assuming there's something you wanted to tell me, or break to me. But if it's bad news, please just... wait until dessert. I need to eat my feelings with something chocolate if it's bad news."
Will smiled at me. "It's not bad news."
My eyes locked onto his hand, which was now wrapped around Jenny's shoulder. Then I flicked my gaze up and over to Jenny's face, and her eyes were on the table, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. And Will was watching her, his own smile wide, a tenderness lighting up his eyes.
"Are you pregnant?" I asked, not entirely sure of myself, but going with the feeling anyway.
Jenny's eyes widened, and her smile dimmed a bit as she met my eye, "Wha- You... how did you know?!"
"You're pregnant?!" I practically screeched, leaning forward across the table, and eyeing both of them — their smiles were uncontrollable as they looked from me to each other.
Jenny nodded. "About two months along, but we just couldn't wait any longer to say anything." She was beaming, and I wondered how I didn't notice it before. Wondered why I didn't see the way she carried herself, the way she disappeared to the bathroom more often than usual, the way she touched her belly the way she was touching it now.
"Oh my God," I breathed through my fingers, wanting to get up and kiss both of them, my own excitement bubbling up something fierce inside of me. Because there would be another one of us now, a brother or sister for Lilly, another little nugget to love. It was all too much. "Did you tell Mom and Dad?"
Will shook his head, his lips pressed together in a smile he couldn't suppress, even at the mention of Mom. "We wanted you to be the first to know."
"I'm the first -" I was breathless, so honored, so excited, so... "Wait... you haven't told anyone else?"
Jenny had my hand in hers now, and she rubbed it thoughtfully for a moment before smiling up at me. "We wanted the woman who we hope will be our baby's godmother to be the first to know."
That was when I all out squealed. And jumped from my seat. And hugged and kissed each of them. In front of a restaurant full of people.
But I didn't care, and they didn't seem to either.
"Oh my God! Yes, I absolutely will be the godmother! Oh my God."
I'll admit, I was a little bummed when they told me almost four years ago that Jenny's sister Trina would be Lilly's godmother. Obviously, I would always be her aunt, but I wanted the little bit extra, and was more disappointed than I had any right to be that the honor had gone to someone else. But now... now I would be a godmother, too.
As I sat back down, I fanned my hand in the direction of my face, which was now heated and surely red from all of the excitement. "I can't believe this. I'm so, so happy for you both! Mom and Dad are going to die."
"Yeah, um..." Will leaned forward, laced his fingers together on the table. "We're planning on telling them this weekend. So, if you could just, not say anything until then, that would be great."
"Won't be a problem," I said before taking a sip of my water. "I try to keep conversations with Mom as short as possible anyway."
"Yeah, thanks for that. We have to hear her go on about it."
I cringed a bit, feeling guilty at the thought of how many things they must hear her go on about. "Anyway, when do we know if its a girl or boy?"
"Not a for a while more, I don't think," Jenny said, joining me in completely ignoring Will's jab. "I think we knew with Lilly about eighteen weeks in, if I remember correctly." She rubbed her still-flat belly softly, smiling down at it, and looked up at me with a grin, like what she was about to say was something she shouldn't be saying. "I'm kind of hoping for a boy this time, but I wouldn't mind either way. I already love whatever it is so much it hurts."
"I'm calling it. It's a girl. A little sister for Lil, right bug?" Will grinned at his daughter.
And she looked up from her coloring with wide blue eyes. "I want a brother."
I giggled, loving how directly she'd said it, loving that it made Will laugh despite himself, loving that there would be another kid to shut him up in seven months time.
"Fine," he said, still grinning from ear to ear. "I'll hold out hope for a girl then. One of us has to."
Jenny huffed, and looked over at him. "I didn't say I wouldn't want another girl. I just, think it would be nice to have one of each."
Will smirked at her. "You realize he could be just like me, right?"
Jenny giggled a little, and smiled at him. "All the more reason, then."
I resisted the urge to gag as I watched him lean into her, and saw the connection of lips before I had a chance to completely avert my gaze. I cleared my throat, staring down at Lilly's place mat, half colored in. "Ahem... break it up. There are children present."
Just then, the waiter arrived.
"Oh thank God," I said, still looking directly down at the table. "Saved by the nachos."
He set the plate of cheesy goodness down in the middle of the table, and I wasted no time before digging in, keeping my gaze on the nachos, and the nachos alone.
"You're worse than Lilly, Maddie-o." Will's hand reached in to grab a few chips. "She barely flinches any more."
"Poor kid. Do mommy and daddy kiss a lot?" I asked her.
She bit into one of the chips Will had put on her plate, and nodded. "A lot. And they wrestle in bed a lot, too."
With eyes wide and jaw ajar, I looked over at my brother and sister-in-law, ready to hear them defend, and/or explain themselves. But Will just shrugged, and Jenny blushed as she giggled, her mouth full of nachos.
"I'm sorry for you," I said to Lilly, dipping a chip into the guacamole. "That can't be easy."
Lilly shrugged, and pushed her hair back with a tiny fist. "I just try not to look."
"I think that's best."
Her mother and father were getting a kick out of us, so I turned to smile at them when Jenny said, "To be fair, we wouldn't be expecting nugget number two if... well, you know." She finished, eyeing her daughter, who was again preoccupied with her chips and color-in place mat.
"See, I'd rather not get into specifics about how number two came about, so if we could move on from this particular discussion, that would be great."
"Don't blame us. Lilly's the one who brought it up," Will said, shoving another chip in his mouth.
"And you are far too comfortable discussing it, and I'd like to keep my appetite. So, moving on, please.
Jenny giggled again, but heeded my request. "Alright, what's been going on with you, Maddie? How's school?"
"It's alright. Midterms are coming up. Not looking forward to it." I took a sip of my water.
"You'll be fine. You always are," Will said through his food. But he swallowed before speaking again. "How are things with you and Harry?"
Harry.
It had been just over two weeks since he'd gone. Two weeks without touching him, kissing him, breathing him in. Two weeks spent missing him, waiting for his calls, fighting the disappointment that came only minutes after we hung up. After the first few days, I'd adjusted pretty well to my regular routine, though the sadness weighed on my every day. I fought it as best I could, realizing with each hour that passed, that my life would never be the same again. Realizing that it hadn't been the same since the moment he walked into it.
But what took the most getting used to was my life with him, even when he wasn't physically here with me. I wasn't sure I'd ever get the hang of it.
"Good." I stuffed nachos into my mouth, hoping to dull the stabbing pressure to a more manageable ache with the presence of food.
Will nodded. "Where is he now?"
"He's been in L.A. for the past couple of weeks, but they're actually heading to England tonight. Or at least, he is."
"Does he still wear my bracelets?" Lilly piped up from her seat, her crayon held aloft as she stared up at me.
I smiled remembering how he'd held true to his word. He wore them every day while he was here - the blue one she'd made for him that first night all those months ago, and the newer green one she'd made the second time she saw him. It was like I could still feel them under my fingers when I rolled them a bit up and down his arm in bed together, or when we were cuddled together on the couch. I could still see him taking them off before going into the shower, leaving them on the dresser in my room, and putting them back on once he was dry and dressed for the day.
"As far as I know, he does," I said with a smile. I didn't see him enough to know for sure now.
Pleased with that answer, Lilly turned back to her coloring.
"That can't be easy for you," Jenny said then, taking the last of the nachos for herself.
I shrugged, trying to seem strong about it. "It is what it is. It's his job. There's nothing I can really do about it."
"Yeah, but I mean, there's a huge part of his life that you don't get to see. It's got to be hard."
Will elbowed her then, and she looked at him, eyes wide in confusion. "What?"
He eyed me very purposefully before answering her. "I don't think you're telling her anything she doesn't already know."
"It's fine," I said, wanting to mean it. But it just brought up more of the same questions I'd had for a while now, bringing to the surface all of the feelings I'd been dealing with just as long. When would I be able to know that part of his life? Would I ever? "It was great having him here as long as he was. And he's going to be back in New York for a little while to promote their new album in less than a month, so I'll get to see him then."
They were both eyeing me now, nodding along to what I was saying, but I could see it in their eyes — the pity. And I hated it.
"He, uh..." I prodded the crumbs on my plate. "He also invited me to go home with him at Christmas time. To England."
That got their attention, and chased the pity away.
"England?" Jenny said, impressed and (much to my dismay) surprised.
"You can't go there for Christmas," Will said. "Mom will kill you. And him."
"You think I don't know that?" I said. "Even Harry knew that. We agreed it would have to be afterwards."
"Maddie... you haven't even been out of the country before," Will said, and I didn't know if that thought was supposed to be in favor of me going or not going.
"Well," I shrugged. "There's a first time for everything."
"I think it's awesome," Jenny said then.
"Thank you!"
"I didn't say it wasn't awesome, I just..." Will paused, looking right at me, and he didn't look happy. "I don't know. Are you ready for that?"
"Ready for what?" I asked.
"You know... leaving the country and meeting his family and being away from home for however long?"
I didn't even have to think about it. "Yes."
Will sat back, his hands held up in surrender. "Okay. If that's what you want, you've got my support."
"I know that. Thank you, though."
We were quiet for a few minutes, and Lilly took the opportunity to show me her picture of the two of us, and I "ooh-ed" and "aah-ed" just enough to get her grinning with pride.
"What did Mom say when you told her?" Will asked when we'd both quieted down.
And just like that, I was faced with the one thing I'd been dreading. "Yeah, um, about that..."
Will just sighed, knowing exactly what I was going to say. "You're in for it, Maddie-o, and there's nothing any of us can do to help you."
Just then, the waiter arrived, a full platter perched on his shoulder, and once more that night I was saved by his arrival. Because Will didn't have to tell me that I was in for it. I knew I was. And I was still trying to figure out the best way to go about telling my mother, the way that would cause the least amount of damage. Because there would be damage, and I felt it was my responsibility to limit the amount of it as much as possible.
"This looks good," Jenny said, staring down at her burger. "Lilly, let Aunt Maddie help you cut up your chicken."
"But I don't want to cut it!" Lilly whined, already holding a chicken finger in one hand.
"It's too hot to hold it like that Lilly-girl. I won't make them too small, I'll just -"
"NO!"
"Leave it," Jenny said with a sigh, "We'll just have to watch her."
I smirked and side-eyed my niece, who was taking a determined bite from the chicken finger in her hand. "Chew, chew chew," I said, watching to be sure she got the whole piece down.
"Have you talked to Mom at all this week?" Will asked then, drawing my attention away from Lilly as she took another bite.
And I sighed, resigned to receive the scolding I was sure he was about to give me. "No. Why?"
"Mm," Will mumbled, chewing quickly to speak, "She called me yesterday in an all-out panic. Not cause of you, for once."
"What happened?" I asked, trying to tamp down the spike of anxiety his words brought on. "Is everything okay?"
"I don't know, I think so." Will paused to take another bite of his chicken, and I stared at him, my anxiety mounting by the second.
"Jesus, you're such an idiot," Jenny said to her husband with a sigh and roll of her eyes, before looking at me. "Everything's fine. She's just worried about Mark."
"Mark?" I said in disbelief. "Why?"
Will seemed to find his voice again, and this time, had the decency not to smother it with food. "She hasn't heard from him in a few weeks."
I blinked. "Is that strange?"
Mark and I didn't really talk outside of family dinners. Occasionally he'd text me, or I'd text him, but that was only if we had something to actually talk about, or a question we had for the other. But I didn't really talk to Will like that either. That was just the kind of relationship I had with my brothers, and it had always worked for us. We just picked up right where we left off when we did see each other, filling in the gaps we'd missed.
My mother was always a different story for the three of us. She wanted to be in the know, all the time. But I thought she and Mark had come to an understanding — he'd show up for family dinners, but other than that, was mostly unreachable. So, this didn't seem too odd to me.
"Normally, no. But this time... I guess it's just been longer than usual." Will shook his head, and I took a bite of the delicious prime rib. "And you know he broke up with his girlfriend, right?"
"What else is new?"
"No," Will paused to swallow. "This one was bad."
"They were together for like, two minutes."
"Yeah, but, I don't know, it's really affecting him for some reason. I didn't think about it until I heard from Mom, but even some of my texts to him have been going unanswered. So, I get why she's worried."
"You can't go off of Mom, though."
"Yeah, but usually I hear from him a couple of times a week. Just to go on about the Yanks or whatever game is on or something, and I haven't heard from him at all this week."
I didn't really think it was cause for concern, but I felt uneasy just because Will seemed concerned. "Well, have you tried calling him?"
"Twice. He didn't answer. And I even left him a message. Still nothing."
Now, I was starting to see where the nerves were coming from. "Has he talked to Dad at all?"
We all knew that Dad was safe, that his reactions were ten times less extreme than Mom's were. If Mark was going to reach out to anyone, it would be him.
"Not that I know of," Will swallowed. "Hence my worry."
I sat back in my seat, chewing while I thought, and swallowed before I said, "Well, what do we do?"
"Lilly, eat some of the broccoli too, baby," Jenny chimed in to say.
Lilly stabbed a piece with her fork, and I watched her take a bite as Will answered, "I mean, I don't know what else to do short of going over to his apartment. Would you want to go with me?"
"Yeah, I'll go. I get out of class at one tomorrow, so any time after that should be fine."
"Okay, I'll call you when I get out of work, then. Maybe we can meet there."
"Sounds good."
"Thanks Maddie-o," Will said. "You know I wouldn't ask unless I really thought I needed to."
"Listen, if you're worried, I should be worried too. Mark is the one we always worry least about."
"Exactly."
"Maddie, could you just cut that up for her?" Jenny asked, and Lilly didn't fight me this time, just let me cut up the broccoli into more manageable pieces.
"You enjoying it Lilly-girl?" I asked as her parents started talking softly to each other.
"Mhmm," she said with a nod of her head, taking another bite of her second chicken finger while I finished cutting up her broccoli.
"Good. Me too." I turned back to my own plate. "This tastes even better than I thought it would. Probably because your Daddy is paying for it."
"Hey, I heard that," Will said with a smirk.
"I hoped you would," I said with a grin, taking another bite of the steak.
The rest of dinner went on as it would at Mom and Dad's house, though I felt a lot less like I was under fire without Mom there. But I left my brother and his little family with the weight of more worry in my chest, and decided that I would try to text my brother now, while it was all still fresh in my mind. And as I pulled out my phone on the way to the subway, my stomach buzzed at sight of Harry's name in my notifications.
Reeeeeaaaaallllly missing you my girl, it said, and it was from an hour ago.
I smiled, the pangs of missing him hitting me full force through my joy at reading just the few words — followed up by the sadness in knowing I wouldn't be able to talk to him tonight, as he was getting on a red-eye bound for London, if he hadn't boarded already.
Cursing myself for forgetting to check the time earlier, I typed back a quick response, hoping to catch him before he couldn't text back any longer.
When it was sent, I pulled up Mark's name, wondering what I should say that wouldn't make it totally obvious that I was trying to get him to talk. We didn't open up to each other about stuff. That was never how our relationship worked. So I knew I wouldn't get him to pour his heart out with just a few texts. But I wanted to know that he was okay, that he was alive, at least. And maybe, later on, I could find out what the hell changed — what was different with this breakup that made him revert into himself this way. Because Mark never went too deep inside, never examined too closely the workings of his own mind, never thought too much about what his actions meant for those around him. He was Mark, and he was shallow, but he was always there if you needed him, and this was not like him.
People walked by me as I waited at the top of the subway stairs, my fingers hovering over the keys of words I didn't know how to form, when a text came through.
Harry.
Mads... I'm about to get on a flight filled with lots of other people. As much as I enjoyed the thought of that, can we hold off on the dirty talk for just a bit longer?
I couldn't help but giggle, glad that my initial text had the intended response. It's not like I was lying — I, more than missed him in a number of ways (some more innocent than others), and knew exactly what to say in response to this text:
Haha, okay. Just know that I'll be thinking of you to keep myself occupied tonight ;)
It was strange how easy talking like this with him had come to me. Strange how the desire beat out the embarrassment. Strange how comfortable I'd grown not only saying these things to him, but acting on them myself, alone in my bedroom, the thought of him the only thing to keep me company as I brought myself over the edge.
It was also strange to have to go from that line of thinking to considering what I would say to my heartbroken older brother. And it took me a couple more minutes to formulate a straightforward, but not-too-detailed text. A concise, and not-too-invasive opener. One that would hopefully get him to respond.
Hey.
Alright, so maybe it wasn't the most engaging opening line, but it was something. And if he didn't answer, I'd send it again. And if he didn't answer that, I'd made up my mind to call.
It was only when I walked out from the depths of the subway that my phone dinged, another text message coming through. And for a moment I was shocked, surprised that I was the one who got him to respond. But when I pulled the phone from my pocket, Harry's name was on the screen.
I really fucking love you. Wish more than anything I was with you. Boarding now, I'll let you know when we land. xx
I smiled down at my phone, wishing more than anything that he was here with me, too, and tapped out a quick response, hoping he hadn't turned his phone off yet.
I love you too. Miss you too much. Have a safe flight. x
I looked up into the night sky, the stars blotted out by the lights of the city, and remembered that night, months ago, drunkenly looking up at the same sky, and taking comfort in knowing he was somewhere under it, too. Now looking up, I found comfort in knowing that in just a few short hours, he'd be flying somewhere high above me, closer than he'd been in two weeks, even if only for a few minutes.
Loud groaning noises only grew louder as I walked down the hallway to my apartment. And when I stopped just outside my door, they were practically deafening.
"Em?" I called when I opened the door, and closed it behind me. Breathing in the chemical tang of cleaning products, I stepped forward into the living space only to find my best friend pushing the couch across the room to the opposite wall.
"Hey," she said, before giving the sofa another shove. It groaned against the floor, and I ran into the living room, grabbing her arm to stop her.
"What?" she asked, confused as she looked up at me. And that's when I really glanced around, finding the coffee table pushed over in the direction of the kitchen counter, the armchair on the complete opposite side of the room, and the stand with all of our electronics on it, caddy-cornered where it had been flat against the wall before.
"You, uh..." I met her eye again, looking for a sign as to what was wrong. "You realize its almost ten at night?"
"Yeah," she said, too quickly, and bent to push the couch again. "I already cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom and your room." That was a pleasant surprise. "But I still have a lot of energy so I thought I'd just... rearrange a little bit."
The floor gave another loud groan as she heaved the couch across it, and I let her this time, sure we would be hearing from our neighbor's just below us in the near future, but deciding she had to at least put the room in some semblance of order again.
When she finished, and stepped back, staring at the couch against the new wall, I eyed her, waiting to see if she'd tell me what brought all this on. But when she pursed her lips, and moved forward, gripping the arm of the couch again, I stepped in.
"Why don't you just leave it here for now?" I led her away from the arm, taking her by the elbow and seating both of us on the couch. "You can fix it tomorrow if you still don' like it. You know, around midday, when you won't be waking up the entire apartment complex."
She sighed. "Let me just put the coffee table here."
I didn't stop her this time, just watched her carefully as she lifted the coffee table, and plopped it down in the middle of the floor. Then she grabbed the pile of magazines that we usually had on it and set them carefully, precisely down before spreading them out meticulously over the length of the table.
"So..." I said, when she stepped back, surveying her work. "What brought this on?"
Emily just shrugged, hands on her hips. "Oh, you know. Nothing groundbreaking."
I knew she was lying, and I gave her a look to let her know that I knew. And she knew, too.
She sighed, and let her hands fall to her sides. "Bryan and I had a fight."
That wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't know what I was expecting.
"What about?" I patted the seat next to me.
She slowly walked over. "Things have been weird between us for a little while. Just... off." She slumped down on the couch beside me. "So — and I know I shouldn't have done it, but he was just acting so weird — I went through his phone."
"Oh shit."
"He's been talking to this girl he works with for a while. Julie." She said that last word with a grimace.
It was worse than I thought. "Talking how?"
"To be fair, she was doing most of the talking. But it was definitely flirting. And he didn't stop her, or even tell her he had a girlfriend. At least, not over text."
"That doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't know."
"I know, but..." she closed her eyes for a moment, releasing a deep breath through her nose. "You should've seen the texts. It was like... he was enjoying it."
I could see it now. The pain, the sadness, the anger. I could see it all brimming just beneath the surface now that she'd sat, stopped putting her focus into the apartment and let each and every thought have its moment at the forefront of her mind. And I almost wished I hadn't asked.
"What did he say when you confronted him?"
She sighed, and I saw the anger rise to the surface. "He gave it to me for looking at his private messages, saying they were none of my business, and I had no right to go snooping through his phone."
Yikes. "What did you say?"
"I just, told him that was beside the point, because in a way, it is. I mean, the bigger issue here is that he's kind of cheating on me, without actually cheating on me. At least not that I know of."
I didn't know what to say.
"I mean..."
But I didn't have to.
"What's worse, really? Him actually having sex with another girl, or him having real feelings for another girl? I think I'd rather the sex."
"But... you don't know for sure that he has feelings for her, or that he's had sex with her." I was trying to be placating, not defend him, but only when the words came out did I realize how they sounded — like I was on his side. "I'm not defending him, I'm just saying that maybe this is all a big misunderstanding."
Emily met my eye then. "I saw the texts, Maddie. Even if he doesn't have feelings for her, even if he hasn't had sex with her, he's entertained the idea."
Her face looked like it wanted to crumple in on itself, and I felt for her so much in that moment, I pulled her to me. And she must've really been hurting, because she tucked her head between my neck and shoulder, and pulled her legs up onto the couch beside her.
"How'd you guys leave off?" I asked, several moments later.
She sniffled then, and I squeezed her tighter, upset and scared to see Emily — my strong, resilient, practical best friend — fighting back tears.
"He insisted that nothing was going on, but he seemed too defensive. Kept blasting me for going through his phone instead of apologizing. So I left. We weren't getting anywhere, so what was the point of staying? For him to continue to act like a complete asshole towards me? No thank you."
She was crying now, her sobs wracking her body against mine, and I held her as tight as I could, hoping I could hold her together with sheer force of will. But maybe this was better. Her anger channeled through her tears, taken out on our unsuspecting furniture. Maybe it was better.
I held her for I don't know how long, letting her cry in my arms, and wondered how their relationship had gotten to this point. They'd always seemed so solid to me, so in love with one another. They balanced each other out, they spent all their time together, they still had a great sex life as far as I knew (and I didn't want to know more), so what could've happened? What could've changed?
It would've made sense if they'd both been feeling the strain for a while. But Emily would've told me if they had. And I couldn't believe that this kind of thing just comes out of nowhere. That people are capable of dedicating years of themselves to another person only to change their mind just because. Thinking like that scared me too much.
I didn't know what she was going to do, and I didn't want to ask. She didn't say it was over, but that didn't mean she didn't want it to be.
So instead, all I said was, "I'll kill him, if you want me to. Just say the word."
Her sobs had subsided a little, and I was relieved when she released a breathy laugh. "Maybe. Let me think about it."
"Okay." I brushed the hair away from her face, feeling the hot skin beneath my fingers. "You just let me know."
She hugged me even tighter, laughing a little more now. "Will do."
"In the meantime, we can go over to his place while he's at work and rearrange his entire apartment."
She really giggled now, and I smiled at the sound.
"Seriously. We'll even switch out all the stuff in the fridge for all the stuff in his bathroom. Then we'll knot all his bedsheets together and hang them out the window. Ooh, and we'll tie all his shoelaces together!"
"Diabolical," she said, and smiled at me as she sat up, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks.
I shrugged. "Clearly, I've put some thought into it."
She took a deep breath, groaning as she let it out. "I hate being like this."
"Like what?"
"All teary and emotional."
"Got to admit," I said. "I don't like it either."
I hated seeing her so vulnerable. So hurt. And when I offered to kill Bryan, there was a large part of me that meant it. I'd always thought he was a decent guy. A nice person. But nice people don't pull this shit. And after three years put into their relationship, Emily didn't need someone like him, someone who so clearly didn't care about what three years together meant.
"I'm exhausted," she said a minute later, and eyed the furniture around us. She gave a rueful laugh. "I hate it like this."
Now it was my turn to laugh, and I glanced around the room. I didn't like it either. "We'll fix it tomorrow. Why don't you get to bed? See if you can sleep."
"Yeah," she said, reaching for a tissue. "Maybe I will."
"Do you want anything? Tea or something?"
"No," she said, her voice muffled through the tissue. She blew her nose again. "I'm fine, thanks."
"Okay. Well if you need anything, I'll be up for a while. I've got some work to finish up for tomorrow."
Emily nodded and stood, "Thanks. Hopefully I'll just knock out."
"I'll check on you in a little while."
"Okay." She disappeared into the hallway, but her voice, small and weak, echoed back. "Love you."
My heart broke for her. "Love you too," I called back.
I hated him for this. And even if they stayed together, I doubted I could forgive him for it.
With one last helpless look at the rearranged room around me, I set myself up at the counter, spreading out all my books and opening my laptop. I couldn't seem to do work in my room anymore. It just led me to thoughts of Harry — imagining him there on the bed with me, watching as I attempted to read something for school before I inevitably gave up on it in favor of kissing him — too often, more than kissing him. But now it just hurt. I didn't want to think about those things too much if I could help it, afraid that if I did, I would sink into the black hole of missing him, and it would take me days to climb back out.
I couldn't afford that right now. School was only becoming more demanding. Work was work. And now, I had the two added worries of my brother falling off the face of the earth, and Emily's relationship going up in flames. I needed to be as present as possible for them, if not myself, and doing my work at the counter was just one small way of avoiding further heartache on my end.
I checked my phone, as much to see if my brother had texted back as Harry.
Nothing from either of them. Not that I really expected anything different. Harry was on the flight at this point, and Mark, well... if he wasn't answering Will, there was no way he would actually answer me.
As I typed up my response paper for my American Lit class — it was a boring reading, so the response paper was just as fun — I listened for sounds of crying coming from Emily's bedroom, but heard nothing. And after about an hour, I tip-toed down the hall, poking my head into her room to find her passed out beneath the covers.
I was afraid she wouldn't be able to sleep, but thankful when I closed the door that exhaustion had pulled her under anyway. It was probably all the cleaning and furniture shifting she'd done. Not only was our apartment as spotless as ever, but reorganizing it had knocked her out too.
Two birds, one stone.
I finished up my paper in the next hour. It was past midnight, but I sent Mark another text, hoping that maybe he'd been out or something and now would have time to respond. And as I waited for a response I was ninety percent sure wouldn't come, I pulled up Harry's name, scrolling through the many texts before landing on a conversation we'd had about a week ago.
Harry: Do you think my thighs are too big?
Me: HAHAHA, what?!?
Harry: Be honest. Are they too... thick?
Me: OMG no!!!!! What made you think that?!
Harry: I stumbled upon something online and someone referred to them as "meaty." Didn't really know what to think.
Me: Awww, poor baby. If it helps, you look better in skinny jeans than I do.
Harry: Believe me, babe. There's no comparison ;)
I still blushed, even now, reading them.
Me: :) Your thighs are perfectly normal. Adequately meaty ;)
Harry: That's what I thought, but I needed a second opinion.
Me: I would love them even if they were MORE than adequately meaty. Just saying :)
Harry: Is that your way of gently telling me that they ARE too meaty?
Me: Oh boy. Who knew you were so self-conscious about your thighs?!
Harry: They may have tapped into an already-there insecurity.
Me: Remind me to give your thighs lots of kisses when you come back ;)
Harry: Oh my God. Getting on a plane now. Be there in six hours ;)
Me: That's all I had to say all along?!?
Harry: Thigh kisses are my kryptonite.
Me: I'll be at the airport.
Harry: I'll be the one with the "meaty" thighs.
I giggled now, loving that we could still have the stupidest conversations over text, and loving that they still meant just as much to me. I loved that Harry was always Harry, no matter where he was or what he was doing. I loved that he still asked me silly questions, that he still had senseless insecurities, just like the rest of us. And most of all, I loved that I was the one he came to to put those insecurities to rest.
After looking over my paper once more, I closed Word and pulled up my web browser, hoping to keep myself awake a little longer in case Emily woke up, but also to decompress after a long, somewhat stressful day.
It was funny how the world worked. Funny how I was counting my blessings just a minute ago, relieved to have a boyfriend like Harry, who was sweet and funny and smart and kind, and everything Bryan apparently wasn't. Funny how I was grateful I wasn't Emily today, in the selfish part of my brain — grateful that my relationship was better than I ever could have imagined a relationship could be, while hers was in shambles.
It was funny how those little moments of selfishness could come back and bite you in the ass.
The headline was glaring to be sure, but the pictures were what I couldn't look away from. Harry with a purple plastic spoon in his mouth, sunglasses over his eyes, brows crinkled, the little line of focus I knew so well visible between them, wearing a plaid shirt, his chest bare save for his tattoos beneath it. One hand was holding a cup of frozen yogurt, and it looked like his usual order — plain yogurt with lots of fruit, and chocolate chips — but the other was reaching out beside the open door of a car. My eyes caught the bracelets next, the blue and green bracelets that Lilly had made for him wrapped around his tattooed wrist. And lastly, his fingers. His fingers were spread out on her back, helping her as she eased herself into the car.
She had blonde hair. That's all I let myself see as I slammed my computer shut.
But I could still see the headline as I squeezed my eyes shut. The words dark and bold and growing bigger and bigger by the minute.
Harry Styles and model Mimi Hanover step out for frozen yogurt. Is romance blossoming in Beverly Hills?
Funny, I thought. But not really funny at all.
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Author's Note:
1) HAPPY PERFECT RELEASE DAY!!!!! I've listened to it too many times to count already. Anyone else?? What do you guys think of it?
2) Mimi Hanover. I hate her already. You might not recognize her name, and that's because I made her up. As realistic as I want this story to be, I didn't want to use the name of any of the girls Harry has been linked with in real life. For some reason, I just don't feel comfortable doing that. Hope you don't mind :)
3) What are the odds that he was ACTUALLY linked with some model this week?! I've had this part of the story planned pretty much since the beginning, and the week I decide it's time to write it, he's seen with a new model friend! (Just want it to be clear, I PLANNED IT FIRST)
4) Hope you babes enjoyed this one, even with the lack of H. Are you missing him as much as I am?? And what the hell is up with those pictures?? H has some explaining to do, that's for sure.
Pretty, pretty please let me know what you think, either by voting or commenting (or BOTH if you're feeling generous). And I hope you're as distraught as I am about all this. (Is it sad that I'm distraught over my own characters?? -- *shrugs*) As always, THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading. I've got so much love for each and every one of you!